My three favorite rock stars

Just posing for their album cover, photographed last summer at the Hunter Museum of Art.

Perspective

I've seen this photo rotated at every 90 degree angle, and they all make about the same amount of sense. This is how I photographed it.

Hunter Museum of Art, Chattanooga, TN.

Good times with the kids.

Big time good time.

Big time.

We're still recovering.

Just an innocent post about art

Hey, whataya say we take an edifying and innocent stroll down the corridors of some art galleries? Gee, that sounds delightful, doesn't it? And, to repeat, it's merely a perfectly innocent endeavor. No ulterior motives whatsoever.

Ulterior motives? Nah, that ain't me.

Well let's see what we have here. Hmm....it's a beautiful Matisse I saw in the AIC!



Matisse is always described as a "supreme colorist." Supreme colorist. Not a good or great or masterful colorist. Supreme. Well, perhaps rightly so. What I like about this painting is the contrast of that big splash of color against the black background. Oh and you know I love that light/dark contrast. Okay....so let's see what else we discover.

Isn't this just good clean innocent fun? Oh goody, I'm having such a delightful time!



Now looky here, an eyeball, also in the AIC. I can't recall who the painter is, though if I had to guess by the looks of it I'd say either Magritte or Duchamp. (If you know who it is, let a white boy know.) Now a couple of things strike me as interesting here. One is how we know it's a female eyeball. The markings between male and female eyes are incredibly subtle, surely, and yet we have no trouble whatsoever discerning that this is a female eye. Apparently a lot of our brain is devoted to making sense of faces. Another interesting feature is how we know that this painting is perfectly complete. Why do we know this?

Well, I'd love to talk more about this but for the sake of our little journey, let's move on.

Hey, what do you know, here's a rabbit!!!



Isn't this grand? A rabbit actually depicted not in death but in life! And not just alive but joyously so, dancing on an anvil, a nice juxtaposition of light and heavy, of spirit and body. This bunny practically screams life and innocence, doesn't it? So cute, so sweet. I can't remember the artist, but I suspect it's that contemporary English dude, Barry Flanagan, whose trademark is the metal hare. (Does he have competition in this genre? I truly do not know.)

All I know is that this sculpture is so very very innocent. Let's keep moving.



My lord, what is this?! How did this slip in here?

What kind of twisted mind chooses to depict bunnies in such a state of carnage?

Ah bunny! Ah humanity!

Wait.

Those bunnies aren't slaughtered lumps of cold flesh. No. They are merely sleeping happy little creatures, resting peacefully, enjoying each other's company and body warmth. They're pulsing with life, these bunnies. Much like how this little guy, here below, isn't slipping into eternity in a pool of his own spilled blood. No way!



He's just a happy little innocent bunny.

So very innocent.

So very not dying a horrible and cruel death.

49 Rings (This boat is sinking)

Like Poe's shaft of light on that deformed eyeball (oh you know what I'm talkin' about), the word "images" at the beginning of the video is driving me rapidly to madness. I inserted the word as a "placeholder," as I had yet to come up with a title for the piece. I intended to change it to a more video-fitting word or introduction but forgot to do so. And then only after I saved the piece and uploaded it to the blog (a process which took about twenty minutes or so because the file is so large) did I notice that "images" is still there.

The madness.

The raving lunatic madness of it all.

It's time for a caption contest!!!

What's the right caption?

Mine will win because of its historical accuracy and trenchant social commentary.

What Emma was saying was this, "Daddy, I just LOVE art museums!!! Nothing causes my heart to pitter-patter with joy like stepping inside an art museum with my family. Especially when you have your camera, Daddy-O. It's like.....Nirvana! I feel SO badly for those poor kids whose parents refuse to take them. I'd much rather forgo Disney! I pray to soften the hearts of those mean parents."

It's a longish caption to be sure, but it's a good one. But if brevity must win out, then I'll reduce it to this: "Daddy, I just LOVE art museums!!!"

Another point. My camera blows. That makes me sad in my heart.

And a question. Why won't my wife allow me to buy a better one? Sure, she'll tell you she's been begging me for years to buy a better camera, a point she'll corroborate with "witnesses" who'll claim they've heard her tell me that. And sure, she'll tell you a thousand dollars in the checking account has been earmarked specifically for a camera. But I know that the government has banned earmarks. Just part of big conspiracy to prevent me from buying a better camera.

Cuz the one I have blows. (If you don't believe me, read "another point" above. It backs me up here.)

Big ship, bigger shins

I cropped but otherwise did little to alter this photo. Just more of my obsession with reflections.

Alice in Wonderland

Here's a picture of my big girl and her two little sisters. Lydia's a great babysitter to them when we're out--responsible and a good decision-maker!

Under the Bridge

Lest one might have begun to think my blog featured lots of color (see Tulipalooza), I thought it best that we restore order by throwing in a dash of gray.

Tuliptopia

Macbeth's Spaghetti

Okay, you food bloggers out there: Would this photo work for your blog? Or, is there too much thought of death here and too little thought of culinary delight?

Just askin'.

It

What Lies Beneath

Andy D: Welcome to the Bean, my friend. I think you'll like this place. Anyone who's been fully beanstalkered never looks back.

For what it's worth, this photo nicely captures how I truly do view the world most of the time.

Christy refuted (once again)

So Christy, you can't see this and say I don't take my kids to fun places, like this park with scenes of yummy Chicago being devoured by bizarro long-tongued red creatures and plastic dinosaurs.

Wait, I didn't take them here.

Still, they BEG me to take them to art museums. That's a lie, they don't.

Still. I definitely take them to fun places.

Like art museums.

Building emerging from a rock

1451 feet into the clouds

This will forever be the Sears Tower in my mind, not the ridiculous "Willis" Tower. As my dear father-in-law would say, "Come on! Gimme a break!"



I considered calling this photo, "Eraserhead."



And some flags in the wind for you pleasure sans crazy-a$$ hair.

Glass, wood, and woman ascending

I completely forgot about these photos from over a year ago, and when I went to the AIC this year, I took yet another set of photos of a woman in this same area.

Hmmmm......not only am I not original in my photos in the broader world, I'm not even original within my own photo sets. (I'll display those soon.)

Four eyes

Photo of my image reflected at the base of a (middle-sister) Lindholm vase. The solid glass of the base reflected a separate image from the hollow glass at its core.

I wasn't going for creepy. Creepiness goes out of her way to seek me out.

Railing

The statue is the same, captured from different perspectives. These photos are a year old. I have a lot of catching up to do.

Bounce

Though this shot is just over a year old, Lydia looks so much older now. Sigh....

Divided

More reflections. These taken exactly a year ago today when I took the kids to the Hunter Museum of Art in Chattanooga. There is a fabulous piece of art that's essentially nothing more than a billion and six little mirrors. I'll be posting more in a day or two (and perhaps I've already posted some already).

Four Square

I'll likely take this photo down. I like the idea of it but I just executed it poorly. Lots of clutter I didn't think about in the photo. I had the camera over my head so I just guessed what would be in the screen, so I suppose I'm lucky to have captured what I did. Still, luck don't make it good.

Happy fractures

Taken (against rules, natch) at a certain art gallery in GA. My kiddos and one of their friends from school. Lydia is barely discernible on the far right side about two-thirds of the way up the photo.

Self-portrait

My most insightful self-portrait! (Or not. I don't know.)

Remorse of a hearing person

Here below is my revised and sanitized discussion on the hearing impaired:

"If genetics are determinative, someday I’m going to lose my hearing. My attachment to Led Zeppelin and Radiohead will surely prove counterproductive in my future struggle to forestall the inevitable.

The end."

Rabbit of prey with murdered victim

Yet again we regrettably note that rabbits are inextricably associated with death--and death of a particularly gruesome and grim variety. Last summer I was minding my own business at the Montgomery Museum of Fine Art, thinking my typical cheerful and well-adjusted and positive and upbeat and encouraging and life-affirming thoughts when, tragically, I happened upon this bird-destroying (and presumably bird-devouring) work of art.

Prior to this experience, I had always considered rabbits as hapless victims of murder, as exemplified--if you recall--by my mother-in-law's cruelly realistic depiction of a rabbit in its last frightened moments, shivering in terror in a pool of its own blood.



Since that time, I've noted the theme of rabbit death in countless other works of art. Why are artists so cold-blooded, so fixated by poor Bunny's death?

I do not know the answer to this question, and this makes me sad in my heart.

But here at least, we see the rabbits are not taking their deaths lying down. They're fighting back. I was shocked by this particular rabbit's brazenness.

Artists, lock your doors at night. Because it starts with birds, but who knows who their next victim may be!

Thoughtful reader Andy D. reminds us that history is replete with examples of killer rabbits. You likely recall when President Carter was attacked by a trained bunny assassin. This photo of the event was released only after he scurried from office to take refuge in his rabbit-proof bunker.



And here is a rare film capture of one of our most notorious killers, a medieval rabbit of profound unholy intent.

In memory of Hank

Hank (AKA "Hank the Tank" and "Hank the Happy Dog") was the dog--more puppy than dog, really--of Andy D. and his wife Tracey. Hank has a special place in my heart not only because he was the sweetest, happiest, most loving, most rascally dog one could ever want, but also because he was the dog that taught my youngest daughter Nora that she need not be afraid of (all) dogs. Dogs can be good, and Hank the Tank was a terrific boy. When Andy D informed us the other day that because young Hank was suffering badly from cancer and slipping quickly and they had to let him pass, Nora was, along with one of her sisters and one of her fathers, simply torn up inside. So in honor of that lovable rascal Hank I decided to put together a little tribute to him with some happy (if also tender) music.

Nora told me that "Dad, I hope they get another dog as nice as Hank, but you can't replace Hank." She also told me that she loved Hank for four reasons.

1. He always remembered her and her sisters when they visited.
2. He was always happy.
3. He was always loving.
4. She taught him how to dance.

Admittedly, I have no idea what she means by this last point, but it's neither the time nor place to interrogate her. I'm sure she did teach him how to dance.

The last thing she said was, "Dad, I want to keep Hank in my heart."

Me too, honey. Me too.

Storm of April, 2011

I already posted this video on FB--and I hadn't thought about posting it on the blog--but Carrie (Dr. baker) asked me to post it here so some of her relatives who are not on FB can view it.

The song is "Storm" by Jose Gonzalez.

Ode to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art

broken wine glass

Tenebrism, pt. 4

A broken wine glass in front of a lit candle.

Tenebrism, pt. 3

One of the blog's visitors refers off-line to Juli as "The Mythical Julianne" or, at times, "The Mythical Creature Known as Julianne"--presumably because Juli features so rarely on the blog. Her default photo disposition is: "SMILE!" Crazy, I know, and certainly not a trait to be encouraged here.

I do not know whether these photos will enhance or detract from her mythical-ness.

Tenebrism, p. 2

Tenebrism, pt. 1

I originally set a few photos (most of which I will post individually) to music, but putting a photo to film degrades their quality and I couldn't bear to ruin the images.

The infinite patience of my friends

The setting was a frozen fountain in Atlanta with a hole in the ice which virtually begged me to position my camera at water level and then capture something sliding across the ice and plopping into the hole. And that something I chose to be my sunglasses. The victim--er, friend--to assist me in this project? Brian Carroll. His patience was great--as he is an expansive man--but I sensed its limits. We were perhaps both equally relieved when the sunglasses, in a "Once in a Lifetime" moment, complied with our demands.

Transitions

A Day in the Life of Chicago

"Tomorrow Never Knows" came to mind while I was filming Cloud Gate. Genius! The World's Easiest Video. Then I thought of adding other video pieces from my trip to Chicago that did not fit. At the same time I (also) decided to add Beatles songs that (also) did not fit together. Or fit with the video pieces. And my computer crashed trying to sort it all out. Twice. So never have I experienced such a (tragically) high inspiration to execution ratio.

Such is life.

Disney Trip

The song is "Trip Like I Do" by The Crystal Method.

When I saw the pulsating lights that you see at the beginning of the video, I actually heard in my mind the opening pulsing of the song I use here. Then when I got home and decided to see whether in reality the two fit, I was very pleased to discover that they do.

The woman's spoken vocals in the song were lifted from one of the band member's answering machine messages left by a woman he met at a club. At least that's what my omniscient friend Mr. Wikipedia tells me.

Upside Down Reflection in Water of Mary, Mother of God, With Floral Halo

Or at least that's what I see.

I don't know who (or what) the sculptor intended to portray. My guess? Mary, Mother of God, with floral halo. But you already knew that, didn't you?

Shoot, you knew that's what I'd see even WITHOUT the title.

Cuz I be seeing Mary everywhere. That's how I roll.

Evocations--images in the ice

Our eye is trained to find form where none exists. Here I see a creepy hunched-over-dog-like creature. The creepy hunched hound-like creature of the Baskervilles, as it were.



And here I see a creepy ice skull.



And here I see a remarkable likeness in pure ice of a creepy corporate building.